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Talk:Nova/@comment-25162335-20150326120729/@comment-25065826-20150327222842
I reach for her hand, and grasp onto it. Hold on, Niamh, you're getting out, aren't you? See? It all gets better in the end. Yeah, right. I'll believe that for now, though. She stumbles as she pulls me up, grabbing onto the doorframe, and with an almighty heave I'm tripping over my own feet as I stand. Emma pulls two grey sticks from behind her, her crutches, and slips her arms into them, stepping from the door. The girl with crutches who was thrown into the wall saves the physically fine one; seems realistic. Well, I was physically fine. I get to my senses, the world spinning as I'm suddenly without two walls trapping me in a corner. But when it all comes together, I'm practically shaking with excitement. I could get out. Me and Emma, and Jordan and Taylor, we could get out. "Thought you might want these", Emma says. She's holding sunglasses. My glasses. "How... Wait, did you...?" I ask. She nods. "Yeah. I got them when I left the canteen. Thought you might want to leave soon, and... Well, I needed to know you were you. Without glasses, you're suddenly so much less nervous than you were. I just... came back too early." "Crap, how's your back!?" I ask, suddenly horrified. I put the glasses on carefully. I would have forgotten them, the eye drops have stopped the pain in my eye. Still looks literally crap, but it feels normal, and I must have gotten used to vision with one eye. But damn, I need them if I'm meant to be escaping. Escaping. My heart beats stronger. "It's fine. Those two guys have a load of energy in their bodies, it would seem. But evidently not any more", and her gaze falls on their bodies. So they were drained... We walk down the corridor, whispering and making our way to the canteen. "We should get them out." I say. Emma nods, and waits outside the room as I go in. The armed people at the ends of the tables have their guns raised, and a few people in the rows have their heads in their hands, some are rocking back and forth. "Take the cuffs of them now or I will flatten your skulls against the floor", I say. My voice is shaky and not much more than a whisper, practically drowning in fear, but they hear and reluctantly uncuff them. One bullet flies at me, but my power flinches before I do and it flies vertically to the ceiling, tapping it before dropping harmlessly to the floor. Once their are enough people uncuffed to pressure the armed mutants into freeing the rest of the teenagers, I decide it's the best time to leave. But Jordan springs to my mind, and Taylor meets my eye a few rows away... A punch connects with my jaw, bruising it, but my arm flies backwards defensively before I can stop it. My legs are swept from beneath me, and there's a young male face above me. "You did this?" He asks, signalling to his wrists. They're bleeding heavily, and his eyes are wild, red and darting around my face. Others join him above me, shouting and accusing. Well, it was me. I did do this. Emma appears at the doorway, and beckons me over. I lose her face in the crowd around me- And then, a few of the crowd fall. Just like that. Just like bags of flour. I rely on this girl way too much. The rest of the group back away from me, snarling like animals. That's when my mind finally kicks in. That's what we are. We've been trained to kill without a thought, tear apart each other if necessary. Cloner has made an army which revolves around fear, backstabbing and hate, and it's paying off. For him, at least, which is kind of irrelevant considering he is just now regaining consciousness. Yeah, now would be the time to go... I stand, and before the people can come at me, meet my eyes with Taylors again. Her eyes dart to the exit, and I get the message. Get the hell outta here, idiot. The wild teenagers run at me, and my clenched fist finds a stomach. It doesn't give at all, and my hand comes away hurting. I aim a high kick at a girl's throat, and it connects, but I'm swarmed and- Oh. Duh. I drag gravity away from me, and the teenagers scramble against the floor as they are pulled away. I can't get Taylor and Jordan out, and she knows it, but I can't help feeling guilt rise as I make my way to the door. Jordan is slumped in her lap, his hoodie is just discernible over the table top, and she still wants me to run. She's strong, she'll be fine, I tell myself. Well, she'll have to be. So I do. Emma on her crutches, me jogging out to the exit I was dragged though weeks ago. Locked, but with a flip of gravity it's off its hinges and crumpled on the ceiling. And then, we run from Hell. Well, jog, because Emma can't keep up. And finally, with an aching jaw and lone ally on crutches, we're free.